novellaaa Chapter 34 Purification Attempt
Chapter 34 Purification Attempt
After the seal on the shadow was completed, the cave fell into a brief silence.
In the center of the platform, the meteorite, completely encased in a black shell, floated silently, no longer pulsating, no longer emitting any energy fluctuations, and even its previously unsettling presence had vanished. It now looked like an ordinary, irregularly shaped black rock, so commonplace that it would almost be overlooked.
But this ordinariness itself is an anomaly.
Karen knelt on one knee, his right hand resting on it, panting heavily. His spiritual energy was almost depleted; his spiritual veins felt like dried-up riverbeds, each breath bringing a subtle stinging pain. The gold and silver intertwined contract runes on his wrist slowly dimmed, eventually disappearing beneath his skin, leaving only faint silver marks.
The cub, Dawn, remained asleep in her arms. Its breathing was steady but weak, and the royal markings on its forehead no longer glowed. Karen could sense Dawn's condition through the contract link: its psionic energy reserves were less than one percent, its vital signs were stable but extremely weak, and it needed a long period of deep hibernation to recover its essence.
"It needs to remain immobile for at least three days," Shadow's voice echoed in Karen's mind, sounding even more weary than before. "And you too. Forcibly using the full power of the Royal Contract, coupled with excessive consumption of spiritual energy, has caused minute cracks in your spiritual veins. If not treated and recuperated in time, it may leave permanent damage."
Karen nodded without speaking. He gently stroked Xiguang's back; the cub trembled slightly in its sleep, emitting soft whimpers—it was dreaming, perhaps a bad dream.
Lyra carried Dawn over, her face equally pale, but her eyes resolute. The dwarf Grom limped behind, his warhammer dragging on the ground with a grating scraping sound.
"What do we do now?" Grom's voice was hoarse as he looked at the sealed meteorite on the platform. "That damn thing... is it really trapped?"
"Temporarily," Shadow replied, lying at Karen's feet, its silver eyes half-closed. "My seal can suppress it for three months. During those three months, it won't be able to actively absorb energy, reproduce itself, or pollute its surroundings. But the seal isn't permanent, and..."
It paused.
"And what?" Karen asked.
"Moreover, the seal itself requires energy to maintain." Shadow raised his eyelids. "Over the next three months, the seal will continuously drain my power. I am already very weak, and if I encounter another battle or get injured along the way, the seal may fail prematurely."
Leah frowned: "So we must find a way to completely solve it within three months."
"Or take it to a place where it can be sealed away permanently," Grom added, "like the dwarves' Forge of the Earth, or the elves' Everwood, or some other sacred place that deals with these kinds of things."
Karen was silent for a few seconds, then slowly stood up. He swayed slightly, and Leah quickly reached out to support him.
"You can't move anymore," Leah said sternly. "You need to rest."
"I know," Karen said softly, "but before I rest... I want to try one more time."
"Try what?"
"Purification." Karen looked at the sealed meteorite. "The Shadow said that sealing is only suppression, not a solution. But just now... when I communicated with it in spirit language, I did come into contact with those soul fragments. They yearn for liberation. Perhaps... perhaps there is another way."
Shadow immediately objected: "It's too dangerous. You've already seen that while some of those fragments are willing to be freed, most are still dominated by pain and hatred. If you forcibly try to purify them, your consciousness is likely to be devoured by those negative emotions."
“I don’t intend to forcibly purify all the fragments,” Karen said. “I just want to… communicate with the core of that meteorite once. The true core isn’t the collection of those soul fragments, but the ‘consciousness’ of the spirit world remnants themselves—if it even exists.”
"Why do this?" Leah asked, puzzled. "We've already sealed it away and bought ourselves time. Why take the risk again?"
Karen took a deep breath.
"Because I want to know the truth." He looked at his right wrist, where the outline of gold and silver spirit patterns could still be faintly seen. "It calls me 'Guardian Bloodline.' Shadow knows this term too. My mother... the pendant she left behind when she left is also related to all of this. This meteorite, the remnants of the spirit world, the collision of two worlds—these things may all be connected to my origins and the reason for my mother's disappearance."
He raised his head, his eyes resolute: "I need to know."
The shadows remained silent for an even longer time.
Finally, it sighed—if cats could sigh.
"Ten minutes," Shadow said. "I'm only giving you ten minutes. Within ten minutes, regardless of the outcome, you must disconnect. And this time, I can't provide support from outside like before—my power is exhausted, and if something unexpected happens, I can't help you."
"That's enough," Karen said. "Thank you."
He walked towards the platform and stopped two meters away from the sealed meteorite. This distance was close enough that accidental contact wouldn't trigger anything. He sat cross-legged, placed his hands flat on his knees, and closed his eyes.
Take a deep breath.
Once, twice, three times.
Karen sank his consciousness deep into the spiritual veins, searching for the "channel" connecting him to the Dawn's contract. After the contract was established, their psionic energy was highly synchronized, and their consciousnesses had partially merged. He traced the golden connection backward, finding the edge of Dawn's slumbering consciousness, and then—
No, it's not the consciousness that enters the light of dawn.
Instead, it borrows the light energy frequency of the Dawn as its "protective layer".
The psychic energy of the Lightwing Lion is inherently pure and orderly, possessing a natural resistance to the chaotic energy of the spirit realm's remnants. Directly contacting the meteorite's core with one's own consciousness would likely result in contamination and erosion. However, enveloping one's consciousness in the psychic energy of Dawnlight is like wearing a protective suit, providing at least a buffer.
Karen carefully guided the faint but pure light energy that naturally emanated from the sleeping Dawn, enveloping it around her consciousness. The cub seemed to sense something in its sleep, slightly shifting its body, but did not wake up—it trusted Karen, unconditionally.
Preparations are complete.
Karen activated his spiritual language again, but this time it wasn't a broad, wide-ranging connection, but a precise, targeted probe. He condensed his consciousness into a tiny "needle," its tip wrapped in light spiritual energy, and slowly probed towards the sealed meteorite.
In the Spirit Language perception, the seal of the shadow appeared as a complex net woven from black threads. These threads contained a power of rules that Karen could not comprehend at all; they entangled, enveloped, and suppressed all activity within the meteorite. The net was dense, but not entirely without gaps—the seal of the shadow primarily targeted energy flow and physical structure, and its defense against pure consciousness probes was relatively weak.
Karen controlled the consciousness probe, gently passing it through the intersection of the two meshes.
The moment you enter the meteorite, the world changes.
It was no longer the chaotic torrent of countless fragmented memories, but rather a void of darkness.
Pure, absolute darkness, where even the concepts of time and space are blurred.
Karen's consciousness floated in the darkness, the protective layer of light energy emitting a faint but resolute glow, like a solitary lantern illuminating an area of a few meters around her. What she saw was no longer a concrete scene, but something more abstract—like standing on a dry, cracked land, with an eternal night sky, without stars, without moon, only endless void.
"Where...am I?" Karen asked herself in her mind.
"This is my interior."
A voice answered.
It wasn't the mixture of countless voices from before, but a single, clear, neutral voice so distinct that its gender and age were indistinguishable. The voice came from the depths of darkness, devoid of emotion or fluctuation, as if stating a simple fact.
Karen cautiously turned towards the source of the sound. The protective layer of light energy automatically strengthened, and the brightness increased slightly.
"Who are you?" Karen asked. "The consciousness of a remnant of the spirit world?"
"Consciousness?" The voice seemed to ponder for a moment. "No, I am not consciousness. I am a record. A consensus formed by billions of fragments rubbing, colliding, and merging over countless years. You can call me 'core,' or 'seed,' or whatever you prefer. The name is meaningless."
"You just said 'my inner self'," Karen continued, "So you really have self-awareness?"
"Self-awareness requires a 'self'." The core answer is, "I have no self. I am merely a structure formed in nothingness by the echoes of countless 'deceased' beings. Just as the wind makes a sound when it blows through a canyon, but that sound is not the canyon's consciousness, but merely a physical phenomenon."
Its explanation was so calm it was almost cold-blooded.
Karen remained silent for a few seconds, processing this information.
"Then, those fragments of souls yearning for liberation..."
"It's noise within the structure," the core said. "It's too 'new,' still retaining the obsessions and emotions of its past. Over time, it will gradually be smoothed out, assimilated, and eventually become part of the structure, no longer making a sound. What you just released only accelerated this process. I want to thank you—the noise has decreased, and the structure is more stable."
Karen felt a chill.
This core... it views those fragments of the soul like a human views a burr on a tool or the noise of a machine. There is no compassion, no understanding, only pure pragmatism.
"Why do you want to pollute this world?" Karen changed the subject. "Why do you devour spiritual beings and erode mineral veins?"
"Because it's the structure's instinct." The core answer is, "Structures need stability, they need to expand, they need to adapt to their environment. Your world has abundant energy and matter, which can serve as nourishment for the structure. Just as water flows downhill and fire consumes its fuel, this is the rule, not a choice."
"But you have caused pain and destruction."
"Pain is a subjective feeling of noise, while destruction is an objective result of structural expansion." The core tone remained calm. "From a structural perspective, this is simply the inevitable friction between two different systems when they come into contact. Just like two continents colliding, which produces mountains and earthquakes, but for the continents themselves, it's just a physical change."
Karen realized that she couldn't persuade this being with emotions or morality. It had no concept of good or evil, no judgment of right or wrong; it simply operated according to some kind of "rule," like a highly complex natural phenomenon.
But perhaps... this is the breakthrough.
"What if we could find a way for you to exist stably without harming the world?" Karen suggested. "No need to devour, no need to expand, just exist quietly. Like... like an ordinary stone."
The core remained silent for a moment.
"Theoretically possible," it finally answered, "but two conditions must be met. First, sufficient energy must be provided to prevent the structure from collapsing. Second, a stable interface compatible with the rules of this world must be established. You cannot currently do either of these. And if the structure is allowed to find its own solutions, the result will be what you are seeing—contamination and engulfment."
"What if...we can find a way?" Karen pressed. "Are you willing to cooperate? Are you willing to stop the pollution and wait for us to find a win-win solution?"
This time, the core remained silent for an even longer period.
"Yes," it said, "if you can find a way before the structure collapses. But time is running out. The seal of the shadow can only last for three months, and the structure has already entered a phase of autonomous expansion. Even when sealed, its internal instincts are still at work. After three months, if you do not provide an alternative, the structure will have to restart the contamination process—and it will be more efficient and more thorough than before."
"Why are you telling me all this?" Karen asked, puzzled. "Aren't you supposed to lack self-awareness? Why are you willing to cooperate?"
"Because the structure's goal is stable existence." The core explanation is, "Cooperating with you, if it can achieve a win-win situation, is a more efficient and stable approach. While confronting you may also yield resources, it carries the risk of complete destruction. The structure's instinct will choose the path with the higher probability of success."
The logic is clear, but the calculations are cold.
Karen didn't know whether to feel fortunate or fearful.
"Then, we can reach a temporary agreement," Karen said. "For the next three months, we will not try to destroy you, but rather find a way to ensure your stable existence. And you, during the seal period, will not actively break through or attempt to pollute your surroundings."
"Agreed," was the core answer, "but with one condition."
"What are the conditions?"
"I need to observe you," the Core said. "The combination of Guardian bloodline and the contract with the Lightwing Lion Royal Clan is extremely rare in this world. Your psionic frequency and evolutionary path are of great value to the study of the Structure. During our cooperation, I will record your psionic changes and growth data—in a non-invasive manner, of course, without affecting your normal activities."
Karen hesitated.
Allowing an unknown entity to "observe" you sounds dangerous. But on the other hand, if you refuse, the basis for cooperation may cease to exist.
"Just observation?" Karen asked, confirming. "You won't try to control or influence me?"
"No." The core assurance is, "Structure needs data, not control. Control requires additional energy, which is inefficient."
"...Alright." Karen finally agreed, "But if you break the agreement, we will destroy you immediately."
"That makes sense," the core said. "Then, the agreement is established. Now, you can leave. Prolonged conscious connection puts a heavy burden on your spiritual channels, and..."
It paused.
"And there are new troubles coming from outside."
Karen was taken aback: "What trouble?"
But before he could get a reply, the connection between their consciousnesses was forcibly severed.
It wasn't interrupted by him, but by some kind of external, intense interference.
Karen suddenly opened her eyes and returned to the real world.
He was still sitting cross-legged on the platform, his hands supporting him on the ground. Cold sweat streamed down his forehead, and he was breathing rapidly, as if he had just finished a marathon.
"Karen!" Leah's voice came from beside her, filled with anxiety. "You're awake! Quick, we have to get out of here!"
Karen looked up and saw Leah holding Dawn, Grom gripping his warhammer, both facing the cave entrance with grim expressions. Shadow stood beside Karen, his silver eyes fixed on the darkness, his fur standing on end.
"What's wrong?" Karen struggled to her feet.
"The cult," Grom said briefly, "at least twenty people, fully armed, are entering the labyrinth. They detected energy fluctuations and are tracking them."
Karen's heart sank.
Roland.
He must have come too.
"How much time do we have?" Karen asked.
"Five minutes at most," Shadow replied. "They move very fast and have detection devices; they'll find this place soon."
Karen looked at the sealed meteorite on the platform. The black stone remained silent, but in Karen's eyes now, it was no longer just a threat, but also... a potential ally?
No, not allies.
There is only a temporary shared interest.
"Take it with us," Karen decided. "We can't leave it here. Who knows what the Order will do with it if they get their hands on it."
"How are you going to carry it?" Grom asked. "That thing is quite heavy."
The shadowy figure approached the sealed meteorite and gently touched it with its claw. Ripples spread across the surface of its black outer shell, and then the entire meteorite began to shrink, from the size of a cartwheel to the size of a fist, finally becoming a smooth, black bead that fell to the ground.
"You can take it now," Shadow said, its voice even weaker. Clearly, this transformation had exhausted its last bit of power.
Karen picked up the black bead. It was cool to the touch and very light, like an ordinary glass bead. But through his spiritual veins, he could sense the compressed, massive energy structure inside the bead, and the fragile seal of the shadow.
He carefully placed the beads into the innermost pocket of his backpack.
"Which way should we go?" Leah asked. "If we go back the way we came, we'll definitely run into the cult."
Karen looked around the cave. Their path—the shaft—had been blocked by a collapse. All other directions were solid rock walls, except…
Except for the fissure from which the underground river gushed forth.
That was where the burrowers had emerged from, and also the lair where that ancient monster slept. But the monster had been purified, and now that rift should be safe—at least safer than facing the Order.
"There," Karen pointed to the crack, "we might find another exit by following the underground river."
There was no time to hesitate.
Grom charged towards the rift first, his warhammer clearing the way and smashing several crystals in his path. Lydia followed closely behind, carrying Dawn. Karen and Shadow brought up the rear.
The moment she entered the crevice, Karen glanced back at the cave.
The platform is empty.
However, the air still retained a dark red, polluted scent, as well as traces of psionic energy left from the battle.
The cult will discover these things.
We will track them down.
This escape is far from over.
He turned and disappeared into the darkness of the crevice.
Less than three minutes after they left, a squad of silver-striped knights rushed into the cave.
The one leading the group was Roland.
His cold eyes swept over the traces of battle, over the empty space on the platform, and finally settled on the direction of the underground river fissure.
"They're inside," Roland said, his voice devoid of emotion. "Chase them. This time, they won't escape."
He raised his hand, and the silver spirit runes on his wrist lit up.
The pattern of that spirit rune was somewhat similar to Karen's.
But they are also completely different.
It looks like a mirror image.
It's also like... some kind of counterpart.